Sellsword
by Flinch-Hayward
Summary: What if Soren had joined a different band of mercenaries, and he and Ike first met on the battlefield? Partial AU, trying my best to keep in character. Spoilers from 2nd chapter onwards. Soren/Ike.
1. Chapter 1

For those of you that have been fans or watchers of my fanfiction for some time, you may have noticed my distinct absence from the site - 2 years, I believe. You may recall that I left after becoming rather paranoid about ideas leaking from my previous fanfiction, and indeed, I have kept to my vow that I will never again be writing DW fanfiction. Instead, I have moved on to my other great love - Fire Emblem - which is thankfully largely underrated. I'm a lot more comfortable in this fandom, but it might take some time for me to get my bearings, so please be patient and understanding.

Being currently obsessed with Path of Radiance/Radiant Dawn, most of my fanfics from now on will be with those characters, particularly Soren and Ike. Although, having now seen titchy Sothe, he might get dropped in occasionally, too. I have several plot bunnies gnawing at my toes, largely involving jealousy and m-preg, so, uh, watch out. Most likely won't all be in this one story, but this is set to be a long one, so just giving you a heads up, just in case.

When I first decided to write some Soren/Ike, I read around first - no point writing what's already out there. It struck me that a lot of the fanfics were either oneshots based around their support conversations, or drastically different AUs. I wanted to write something that stayed true to the universe and the characters, but wasn't the same old story. One fic in particular made me smile (A Matter of Logic by Circius), so much so that they inspired me to try something new and write in 2nd person. Thanks Circius for writing such a great fic.

So anyway. Here's my one, and I hope you like it and forgive the long introduction. Here, have a cookie.

* * *

You didn't even see the sword hit you - just felt the pain searing through your shoulder. The swordsman attacks again before you have the chance to react. This time it's your chest, and by Ashera, it's absolute agony. You stumble backwards, clutching at the wound, cursing yourself for having such weak defence. Your head is growing light, and you're aware of the high probability that you'll die. You hold on the wound yet more tightly. You didn't expect it to end this quickly. In all honesty, you hadn't particularly expected it to end at all.

The swordsman is staring at you now. You can see the confusion in his eyes as he glances at the tome in your hand. And suddenly, he's walking over to you, not running as he was when he attacked - though you can never be sure. Everything seems to have slowed down anyway. Perhaps he just wants to linger over the finishing blow. He seems the cocky type.

But instead you find him keeping a safe distance from you (just over a metre), still staring intently, his blue eyes framed by unruly strands of equally blue hair. "Why didn't you attack me back?" He glances once more at the tome in your right hand. "You had an opening, and your weapon hasn't run out."

"Your speed greatly outranks my own. In the time it would have taken me to cast magic, you would have been able to execute another attack. Considering I would have died either way, it seemed illogical to waste a tome."

He continues to stare at you for some time before responding. "You're very...tactical."

"On the battlefield, to be otherwise is a dangerous disadvantage."

For some reason, your reply makes the swordsman laugh. "I guess, but of the two of us, you seem to be in the sorrier state." He pauses. "You really don't seem the army type. You're a mercenary like us, right?"

You nod, not entirely sure of the reasoning behind his question.

"Well, wouldn't you say it was pretty stupid to die for the losing side, when you won't even get paid?"

"I agree that it seems somewhat illogical. However, there remains a high probability of me dying, regardless of its logical value or indeed lack thereof." Around you, the sounds of battle are slowly fading away. It would seem that you have little time left. "Besides which, it would be yet more illogical to place my trust in someone who, mere moments ago, was attempting to kill me." The pain in your chest is now so familiar that you scarcely recognise it. You attempt to remove your fingers to check the state of the wound, but your hand is stuck in the half-dried blood. You swallow the bile rising in your throat. The prospect of death brings irrational thoughts that you weren't prepared for.

The swordsman holds out his hand to you. "Look around. Your army have lost the battle." You risk turning away from him to view the corpses strewn around. The knight that had been your commander has fallen at the gate of the castle, and the only soldiers still standing belong on the side of the swordsman. "You have two choices. Either you can try and crawl back to the army base and make yourself an enemy of my troops, or you can take a risk and join us. You might make a decent tactician." He glances down at your bloodstained clothing. "Once your wounds have been seen to, that is."

You stare at him. He doesn't seem confused anymore, just determined. His troops number about twenty soldiers, and you aren't in any state for combat. The choice between betrayal and death is perfectly logical. You're just a filthy sellsword anyway. Reaching up to grasp the hand of your new commander, it occurs to you that of all the possible outcomes that you considered for this battle, this one you definitely couldn't have predicted.


	2. Chapter 2

Lookie lookie, an update in less than 24 hours! =D I do hope you enjoy it...I'm working on the third chapter, but it might be a while as I also have another Soren/Ike fic in the works. Still, I'll try my best. I'd like to hand out special cookies to 'yays' for being my first reviewer, and also to Rachel for giving me some great crit. Please do remember to leave comments on how I can improve, as I'm still desperately new to both FE fanfiction and writing in 2nd person.

Thank you. ^^ And now, on with the tale:

* * *

By the time you arrive at their base, you can hardly stand. Nobody has asked you any questions, which you're thankful for - though they've treated your wound as best they can for now, you scarcely have the energy to walk, let alone answer tiring questions. You suddenly feel as though your body is burning up and you fall to your knees, shivering. Have you really lost so much blood? Or, worse, has your weakness let you catch fever again? Shaking, you attempt to stand up, as though willpower alone will prevent you from fainting. You ought to know better.

The same strong arm as before pulls you to your feet, knows better than to let go even when you're upright once more. He hauls you onto the horse belonging to the red-haired woman, the one who seems to be his second-in-command. The horse does not like this. It kicks and bucks in an attempt to throw you, though the woman does her best to calm it. Even in your half-delirious state, you understand what is happening. The horse won't bear you because it knows what you are. You ought to have guessed that one beast could smell another out. Having never had to ride a horse before, it never really occurred to you - not that you could do anything about it even if you had anticipated its reaction.

The commander takes this all in his stride, heaving you back onto his own shoulders instead. You hear him mutter something about a disobedient mule. As you let out a low groan, his arms tighten around you, securing your safety for the time being. It feels odd, but not uncomfortable. You can't remember ever being carried before, not even as a child. Even if you had, you doubt it would have been like this - your limp body slung across a pair of broad shoulders, your head involuntarily nestled beside a shock of blue hair. This is a definite improvement from the horse.

You don't remember the last few minutes of the journey, only waking up in an unfamiliar bed. After all, you're used to sleeping on the ground outside, taking whatever shelter you can get. Any bed is bound to be unfamiliar. Your muscles have seized up, and you find it difficult to move, though you do your best to navigate yourself into an upright position. The only other person in the room is a young girl. She removes herself from her seat as soon as she sees you awake, leaving the room - as far as you can presume- to fetch the commander, as he re-enters with her.

The girl smiles gently at you. Though her hair is a dull brown, her face is similar to that of the commander, and you assume that they are related in some way. "Are you feeling OK now?"

"Marginally better." Her face falls somewhat, but you decide - as ever- that it is better to be blunt. Your chest has been properly treated and bandaged, but you still have a splitting headache, and you expect more than one new scar from that last battle.

The commander walks over and sits in the seat that the girl has abandoned. "So..." He pauses and rests his hand on his knee, as if unsure of quite what to say. "Care to tell us a bit about yourself?"

You swallow hard and look away, out of the nearby window, wondering just how much you can tell them without telling them anything at all.


	3. Chapter 3

Here we go, a nice long chapter for you! ^___^ I feel happy now, because one of my friends joked the other day that I was writing this just for Yays, but I checked my email this afternoon and found that someone new had added it to their Story Alerts. So I'm very happy. =3 Though I'd be happier if they REVIEWED! =D C'mon, you know you want to!

Anyway. Onwards!

* * *

So far as Ike and Mist (she is his sister, you were right) are concerned, you come from a fairly noble family in Daein - you figured that might be an excuse for your reluctance to tell Crimean mercenaries anything. As an only child, you had too much pressure to live up to expectations, so you ran away and joined a small band of mercenaries working for the army. It's only as you run it through again in your head that you realise the irony - you meant to tell them a bunch of lies, but what you actually told them wasn't that far from the truth. You shrug to yourself. So long as they don't know the absolute truth, everything should work out.

Even knowing that, you feel slightly uncomfortable. There's still that half-hearted hope that one day you can tell them everything. But you don't want to - even as a valuable member of their team (there are only a handful of spellcasters), you know they'll shun you as soon as they find out. You don't blame them. You'd shun yourself if you could.

You pick up a tome from the table beside your bed - it feels odd calling anything your own after all this time - and leaf through the pages, familiarising yourself with the spells. You've seen them all before, but it never hurts to practise. The last thing you want to do now is fail on the battlefield. You find it strange that you care more about doing your best and proving your worth to your new commander than you do about actually getting paid. You smirk, realising the emotions are probably displaced from all your pathetic attempts to make your father proud. Were you really such a naive child as to believe that he could ever love you? Then, madness runs in the family, and insanity is a perfectly rational adjustment to an insane world.

Your thoughts are interrupted by the aforementioned commander entering the tent. "Hey, Soren." You glance up at him, and his eyes wander over to the tome still resting on your knee. "You're not busy, are you?"

"Not at all."

"Oh, great...Listen, I was wondering if you could help with a few base strategies. I know there's no way to predict the enemies' movements entirely, but it's better to go into battle with a rough idea rather than none, right?"

You nod, trying your best not to smirk. "I see. So this is why you wanted me to join your merry band of mercenaries - so that I could give you insider information on the tactics of the Daein army."

Ike shifts his weight onto the other foot, looking slightly uncomfortable. "You're telling me you wouldn't have done the same thing in my position? I try to avoid murder when I can help it, Soren. If I can get the enemy to surrender, I try my best to get them to do just that. I know you lost comrades in that last battle, but believe me, I'm not a cold-blooded killer. I want to know the Daein army's strategies so that we can get through this war with as few casualties as possible."

"How noble. But you're quite mistaken." You exhale. "I didn't have any comrades in the army, or even in the mercenary group I was working with. Friends only ever complicate matters. I don't appreciate complications."

Commander Ike looks at you, and you see a note of pity in his eyes. "Maybe sometimes matters need to be complicated, Soren. The world wasn't made in black and white."

"Perhaps it ought to have been. It's quite clear that your mercenaries are the good guys, fighting for justice alongside noble Crimea. And Daein are the bad guys, trying to destroy the peace." You're no longer even sure if you mean your words to be dripping with such sarcasm.

"And what does your little black-and-white world make of you, then? Do you believe that bad people can suddenly become good?"

You give him a wry smile. "Commander, just because someone is on the good side does not make them good."

"Neither does someone being on the bad side make them a bad person," he argues.

"And sometimes, they're just not people at all." You murmur the comment under your breath, but somehow the commander catches it.

"We're all people, Soren. Even Ashnard's still human."

* * *

I really just had to add a footnote for this chapter to tell Ike to get his freaking foot out of his mouth. o_O I know he doesn't realise what he's saying, but REALLY. Would he actually recognise tact, I wonder, if it hit him in the face? Most likely not.


	4. Chapter 4

Four chapters in, and it's beginning to slip away from me. ^^; Firstly, as this is more of a character study than anything else, I still don't exactly have a plot to work with. This chapter in particular is both short and pointless. But I aim to lead the next (better!) chapter from this, so please bear with me. ;__;

I also keep having to refer to my notebook to remind me of the backstory. Because both Sellsword and Ellipsis are based on similar concepts (the 'what if' factor, if you like), I keep forgetting what Soren has told Ike. Haha, I get confused so easily. Y'know, for a straightforward character, Soren doesn't half lie a lot. o_O

I still aim to keep both stories running on a chapter-per-day basis, but...I was wondering if anyone was interested in me writing that silly m-preg one that I mentioned in my first prescript. ^^; It's one of those plots that I need to get out of my head, so it's already partially written. I was just wondering if I ought to post it on FF or not.

Anyway. To the story:

* * *

It's hard for you to sleep that night. You find it difficult to stay angry at the commander - he didn't say such things to purposefully spite you, but they stung nonetheless. Instead, you have anxiety gnawing at you. To your ears, it sounded like Ike couldn't find value in anything that wasn't human. You exhale slowly. On the more positive note, this means that he probably can't stand the laguz - a sentiment you share. But you really had rather hoped that he would be more like his father. You smile sadly to yourself. You always have such double standards.

Despite seeing glimpses of your parents and other unwanted images every time you close your eyes, you eventually manage to drift off to sleep. And then the nightmares come, as they do most nights.

"...not even sure he's totally human." Voices from outside wake you and you sit upright in your bed, supporting yourself on your palms as you strain to hear more of the conversation.

"Have you seen that mark on his forehead?" With a jolt, you realise that you're sweating and breathing rapidly. Whatever nightmare you were having has been forgotten in light of the worrying conversation now taking place.

"Relax, Titania. What does it matter if he's a spirit charmer?" Ike's words ease your mind somewhat. All the same, you slowly get out of bed and tiptoe towards the flap of your tent. You don't want to miss a single word of this.

"What does it matter? Ike, spirit charmers sell their souls for power. What's to say he won't sell us out, too - to the Daein army?!" There's an awkward pause. "Ike, I don't want him present at any meetings. Not until we know for sure that he can be trusted."

You hear Ike sigh. "And what, you just want us to shun him in the meantime?"

"If he's willing to sell his soul, he deserves to be shunned." Titania sounds bitter.

You slip a cloak on over the robes that you had been sleeping in, and exit your tent. Ike and Titania are standing some distance away, but you walk past them on your way to the mess tent. As you pass between them, you mutter just loud enough for them to hear. "It's a birthmark."


	5. Chapter 5

OK, so I officially know what Soren feels like now. By which I mean that I spent the entire day going around with a giant red mark on my forehead and everyone staring. Fun times. No, before you ask, I'm not a Branded. I was at a sleepover with a friend who happened to have a date-stamp. And we ended up creating a new form of pillow fight using it. Let's just say that some people came out looking like they'd caught the plague. A bright red, dated plague.

In other news, I'm invariably pissed off. I blew off a decent friend's birthday so that I could organise a giant London get-together tomorrow for 10 of my best mates. 6 of them have currently blown me off. Today. So I wasn't even given advance notice so that I could have backtracked and gone to the party. So I'm pretty annoyed with most of them.

So yeah. Pissy mood. Haven't been doing great for a while, which is why this hasn't been updated in forever. I checked back in my notebook as I was writing this, and noticed that the last chapter of this was written before Ellipsis2 was put up. DUDE. We're now on Ellipsis9. I feel kinda ashamed. Oh well.

* * *

Ike catches you up only moments later, before you've even managed to sit down. "Soren, wait!"

"What, you've reconsidered shunning me all of a sudden?" You sound more bitter and cold than you expected.

"Titania spoke out of line. We lost several men the other day, and it hit her hard. But that's no excuse for her to say such things."

You stay silent, biting back scathing remarks. Ike's hand is suddenly rested over yours, and you jolt from your reverie. You didn't even notice him move his arm. "Will you come to the meeting, at least? We need your tactical skill." He pauses and looks you directly in the eye. "Please?"

"...I have no wish to cause tension between the two of you. I think that's inevitable if I am present."

Ike grimaces and pulls on your wrist, trying to drag you away from the mess tent. "She's my deputy. She's not the commander. At the end of the day, I'm the one who makes the decisions, and I'm telling you to go to the meeting." You turn away, but he pulls you back again. "Need I remind you that I spared your life?"

You exhale sharply. "No. You don't, commander."

"Good. Then let's go." He lets go of your hand, but you feel even more compelled to follow him. As you make your way back through the camp, you notice the small signs of the company wakening - Oscar and Mist out picking herbs and flowers; Boyd sharpening his axe; Mia yawning as she stumbles around, trying to locate where she last left her sword. You flex your fingers. You can hardly feel them amidst the frosty tinge of the early morning. Or perhaps the commander's grip is stronger than it felt.

He holds the tent flap open for you as you go through, though you aren't sure that you want to be alone in the room with his deputy even for a moment. He soon follows you through, however. She's already standing in front of the desk, with a large map lain across it and marked down with various pins. "The easiest route into Nevasa is via the city of Nebula. It has only a small fort, which we ought to be able to conquer with ease after our victory at Fort Nox. The river, however, is another matter altogether. There are rapids which could prove dangerous, but skirting around will cost us at least three extra days. "

She speaks as though only to the commander, which irritates you somewhat. To your mild surprise, however, he merely nods and turns to you instead. "Soren?"

"...I don't think that Nebula is the right way to head." You lower your gaze to the map, avoiding the searching eyes of both the commander and his fierce deputy. "You're perfectly correct in saying that the fort will be easier to conquer; that much is true. However," you continue, shifting a pin across to the right, "it is far too close to the capital. Reinforcements would arrive in a matter of days, and we would quickly lose whatever advantage we would have gained in capturing the fort. If we head to the east of Daein, we can skirt around the capital. With the mountains so close by, there's no chance of an ambush on all sides. We needn't waste as many forces on defence. And the river is a lot easier to cross near Semper Lake, as the water is calmer."

You risk glancing up, and Ike gives you an approving nod. "That sounds like a better plan. Isn't there a large temple that lies to the east, though?"

"That's why there's less risk of reinforcement. The Dalureca Temple is halfway up the steep mountain slopes, making it difficult for soldiers on foot and horseback to travel up there."

"Which means that we know what to expect in terms of enemy troops," Titania says, smiling faintly. "Wyvern riders."

Your expression falls. "That...is the slight flaw in the plan."

"Soren?" Ike looks at you, his brow furrowed.

"The wyvern riders of Daein are infamous throughout the continent. They are, excluding the Four Riders, his best line of defence - and offence. While going another path would not guarantee their nonintervention, choosing the mountain route is essentially inviting them to attack us." You sigh. "However, I see no other option."

Titania relocates another two pins to the east of the map. "I agree that this is our best option. At least this way, we know what to expect."

"I can expect an arrow to the head, and it won't mean that I can do anything about it," Ike points out. "What are our chances against wyverns?"

"Fairly slim, depending on how many squadrons they send - and they'll likely send as many as they can without undermanning the capital." You chew your lip. "The best way to bring them down would be arrows and wind magic, but against the full force of Daein riders, it's far too dangerous to send out frail units like archers and mages." You smirk. "Not that I'm trying to avoid this battle, just to let you know. I'm merely advising on our strengths and weaknesses. Anyway, it's no use sending out our more bulky units, either. Daein's wyverns are too fast; they'd deal as much damage to us as we would them, and the battle would drag on for far too long."

"So what do you suggest? It seems like there's no winning strategy here."

"There isn't. If we survive this battle without many casualties, it'll be down to luck and not strategy. All I can honestly suggest is choosing an even balance of fighters between defences and agility. Halberdiers and snipers seem particularly good options. If we survive this, our assaults on the capital will be a lot easier. We're essentially drawing away their main forces to deal with them as an isolated unit. Most likely, however, this won't be a pretty battle."

You lower your head, but Ike claps you on the back. "Don't worry. I'm sure it'll work out fine on the day. Thanks for your help. I mean it, Soren."

You take this as a subtle command to leave, and you do so. It baffles you how easily you might be able to fit in here if you tried. A pity you won't give it that chance.


	6. Chapter 6

I know this sounds pathetic, but I was honestly really worried about posting this chapter up. I think it will certainly cause outrage from some. Look, I never promised you canon! This is an AU, and while certain things may seem out of character at this moment in time, I assure you it will all make sense later in the story. All will be explained in time. Have patience.

...Please don't kill me. D=

* * *

"What…is this?"

You've never seen such a horrified expression on Ike's face before. He looks as though he's about to cry; you're sure if he were a lesser man, he would. You close your eyes. You don't want to see any of this. But part of you forces your eyes open again, forces you to watch.

In front of you, the soldiers are falling. Not the Daein wyverns, the mercenaries. There are no wyverns. Instead, there are countless Daein knights - some generals, some paladins - each armed with strong lances and hulking axes. They break the front lines of halberdiers before they have the chance to mount any sort of opposition. This is no longer even a fight anymore. This is organised destruction on one side, and chaos on the other.

You swallow the bile rising in your throat. You watch from the sidelines, safe beside the commander, as the enemy soldiers hack away at the second line of your forces. The snipers go down with little or no resistance. You watch the other mage of the company, Ilyana, shrieking as she frantically claws at the rockface, trying to escape the paladin chasing after her. One blow and she's down, bleeding. You watch Rhys heal her from afar with a physic stave, but it's clear she's been knocked unconscious. If she isn't already dead, she soon will be.

You glance down. Your arms are shaking; you can't hold them steady. Why should you be able to? You…caused this. This pain. This slaughter. The anguish on your commander's face as he sees his units, his friends, falling in front of him. You choke on the rich stench of blood flooding the battlefield. It's worse than you expected, but that's no excuse for what you did. You aren't sure there is an excuse. In the cold and unflinching light of day, your decision seems monstrous.

You watch as Ike runs into the fray, desperately trying to fend off the enemy, trying to give the rest of the company a chance to fall back. Your eyes are met by the nearing enemy commander, and he nods, a filthy grin plastered across his face. You shudder. You briefly consider joining Ike, trying to salvage whatever vestige is left of your honour and save whatever men you have left. But you know such an act would be pointless.

You walk through the battlefield, oddly calm amidst the shouts and grunts of both sides. The mercenaries, of course, don't touch you - but nor do the enemy forces. It dawns on you that they've probably been instructed not to. You could deal them a lot of damage in their confusion, help save the remnants of the mercenaries. The knights and generals in particular would be defenceless against your magic. You could take down the enemy commander with ease if you wanted to. But you don't.

Instead, you walk straight past him, giving the battlefield one last, painful glance. Between clashes of his sword, Ike notices you, looks at you in confusion, frowns. You see in his eyes the very moment that he realises. You're a traitor. His men are dead and dying because of you. You did this deliberately. He knows that.

You turn away, unable to look him in the eye any longer. Your own eyes are stinging. You hope they leave him alive here. You think that either Ashnard or the Black Knight will have asked for him alive. You hope. It seems a shame for him to die here, on this treacherous day. You want him to retreat, more than anything. Pressing on to the capital would only bring pain, and death.

Today's battle was nothing. Ike doesn't understand the point of this slaughter. You hope he never does. If he did, it would mean he hadn't escaped when he had the chance. It would mean he had refused to give up. It might give you a chance at some pathetic reunion. But again, that would only lead to further pain.

Regardless of how he saved it, or how much you might want to swear your life to the commander, you know you cannot. You already owe that debt to someone far more important.


	7. Chapter 7

I just want to send a wave to the random French and Swedish people (Hi!) who have continued reading this even though I haven't updated for nearly three weeks now. I also want to apologise. I've been focusing on Ellipsis because it's easier (and I've also been writing a lot for my novel, The Light of the Day) so I've been neglecting this fic a lot. =( Sorry.

We reached 1000 hits! Awesome, guys!

I'm hoping this number will continue to increase as I promise to update a little more regularly now. Honest. This was a difficult chapter for me to write (IMO, Ena is waaaaaaay harder to write than Stefan is - she has so few speaking lines. u__u) which is partially why it took so long. The first draft didn't turn out right. This is the second draft (and took a week longer to write) and I think it flows a lot more nicely. I hope you enjoy it, anyway!

P.S. I apologise for the lovely imagery at the start.

* * *

You stumble into the fort, your feet gagging blisters. Your sandals weren't made for mountain travel. Not this much, anyway. It must be nearly dawn again. So many hours of walking on pained feet, through darkness that made you blind.

Some of the guards turn to look at you as you pass, but as ever, you ignore them. You wait until you are safely indoors before collapsing on the floor and making a vague attempt to kick the bloodied sandals from your feet.

"Soren!" You recognise Ena's voice even before you see her running towards you.

"Don't...say anything stupid," you warn her, seeing her eyes wide with shock.

She ignores your warning. "You're alive! Thank goodness!" You sigh wearily, but she continues unabetted. "They said the entire battalion had fallen at Fort Nox. What happened? Oh, I'm so glad you're all right."

You don't waste the energy correcting the last part of her speech. "We underestimated the enemy. Their mercenary company is perfectly capable of bringing down Daein now that the laguz have allied with them."

"The laguz? Even Goldoa?" Her voice shakes as she speaks.

"No, Goldoa have chosen to remain neutral. But the hawk and lion tribes in particular are forces to be reckoned with."

Ena dismisses your opinion. "Without the aid of the dragon tribes, they cannot hope to conquer Daein."

"Don't be a fool, Lady Ena." Your speech assumes a cautionary vein. "The capital is manned by human soldiers who will fall quickly to fangs and talons. And the king will not bat an eyelid. After all...he considers everyone expendable." Your voice aches with resentment. For a brief moment, Ena looks as though she might embrace you, but in the end decides better of it. Instead, she kneels beside you on the floor.

"The capital will fall if the Greil Mercenaries continue," you persist. It is vital that Ena understands this. "They will have lost many good men last night, but even so they may press on. I fought under their commander, Ena. He is...a truly remarkable man. He is not skilled in tactics, nor does he have any knowledge of politics and war. Yet his men have an unshakeable trust in him, and he in them. I suppose I shattered that last night." You exhale slowly.

"You betrayed them?" Ena sounds surprised.

"What else could I have done? They'll never best Ashnard, not against that armour. Besides, how could I stay with them and end up fighting you?" You realise the sentimentality of your words and quickly amend. "It isn't as though I would stand a chance against a red dragon, is it? And if word of my defection reached the king, then..." You do not bother to finish. It is clear enough to both of you that death would be preferable.

An awkward silence hangs between you. You try your best to mend it. "I saw an unexpected face while with the mercenaries. Nasir sends his regards."

"Grandfather is with them?"

Seeing the look of horror on her face, you quickly elaborate. "Not with them as such. The beast tribes believe him to be their spy. He's planning to betray them in order to help us." You smirk. "For a supposedly neutral race, we appear to be playing sides rather a lot."

She smiled back, as though hoping to raise your spirits. "It's only natural. Family is more important than politics."

You shoot her an icy glare. Wrong thing to say. "Family _is_ politics. Or did you forget how you were dragged into this mess?"

"Soren, you know that isn't what I--"

"Forget it." Your voice returns to dangerous neutrality. "I know I have no family. Raj is the only thing tying us together. Once he's free, or dead, you won't give a damn about me. And as for my father...don't think I'm delusional in the slightest. I'm well aware he never wanted an heir. He wanted a dragon to control. He got what he wanted. I just wasn't it." You swallow hard. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'd like to rest."

But even after parting from her company, you find yourself unable to do so. Sleep does not come easily for you at the best of times, but now... All you can hear when you close your eyes are the echoes and screams of the fallen. All you can see in the darkness is Ike's face when he realised what you'd done. You sit up in bed, staring at the empty room around you. But the images remain.


	8. Chapter 8

OK, so I haven't updated in forever. I have an art deadline on Monday, and then a media deadline on Friday. After that I'm on study leave and (while revising, of course) I should be pumping out a few more chapters. Until then, hang tight.

Oh, and keep reviewing!

* * *

Your muscles are sore the following morning, as though seized in your sleep by the nightmarish world that you dream of and live in. It takes a while for you to adjust to your surroundings; you don't remember them from the night before. You don't remember much. Only the faded imprint of Ike's horror remains when you wake, though memory of your conversation with Ena slowly trickles back to you. You murmur as you wake. It isn't even as though these are the thoughts ought to be dwelling on. The realisation hits you like ice. Hastily, you scramble from the bed into clothes.

No wonder Ena was fretting so, you scold yourself as you become truly alert. You might have been tired, but you have never been one to accept ignorance as an excuse; therefore you cannot afford yourself such. Even as you descend the staircase in an attempt to find her, you curse yourself for being so blind. It was an unforgivable mistake.

You stop, aware of the fruitlessness of your search. Even if you had found her, what then? Tell her that you hadn't realised what they would do? She wouldn't believe you despite the truth. She holds too much hope in your tactical skill, in your ability to analyse every situation. Ike did that, too. You shake your head in a futile attempt to clear it, allowing yourself once again the fleeting hope that they left him alive. News will likely have reached Ena by now, but it is not the time to discuss such things. There are more pressing matters at hand. You head back towards your room, systematically re-checking each corridor as you walk past. Still no sign. "Soren?"

You turn on your heel, surprised to see her even though you recognised the voice. You don't question how she was able to sneak up on you; she is a dragon, and you were preoccupied. "Ena."

"You were searching for me?" She seems concerned, but you hear the jolt in her voice.

You lower your head. "I wanted to apologise. My actions were thoughtless and irresponsible." You're struck by the memory of this same action as a child. You were practically bowing back then, facing the floor with your fists tightly clenched and your eyes screwed shut. Not as an aggressive pose, but as a silent plea not to get hurt.

Ena lifts your head as she did back then. "It was never your fault, Soren."

"This time, it is," you insist. You can't bring yourself to look her in the eye. "...They haven't allowed you to see him at all?"

She shakes her, albeit slowly. "Not since you went missing."

"But you said yourself that you thought I was dead." Both of you are speaking quietly by nature, but your voice begins to rise in anger. "How could they think that my failure would possibly be your fault?"

"Your death would lessen Daein's grip on Goldoa. Which would naturally be something that I would be expected to answer to."

"That's..." You stop short. Ridiculous as it may seem, you are all too aware that this is typical of Daein's logic. "Have they at least allowed you to see him since my return?"

Once again, she shakes her head. "They wish me to prove my loyalty as you did. I am to serve as a tactician for General Petrine."

You know that name. One of the four legendary generals. It will still not be enough. "For how long?"

"Until Ashnard's plans come to fruition."

You can tell from her voice that she knows exactly what this means. "They expect you to die along with her should Crimea continue." A statement, nothing more. You both understand perfectly.

Should the Greil mercenaries press on toward the capital, Ashnard will not be the one to meet them. They do not know the truth, and there is no time to explain. If ever they faced Ashnard, Rajaion would not be spared. Neither would Ena. You swallow the bile rising in your throat. You owe your life to Rajaion. In order to save his life in return, you realise that it may be necessary to pay your debt with Ike's.


	9. Chapter 9

Sorry for updating Ellipsis more than Sellsword (though both have been rather lacking recently). I hope you'll forgive me. It's just that Sellsword is a lot more fast-paced - I mean, it'll probably be on Chapter 30 that it reaches the point that Sellsword was on Chapter 5. __ It's elaborated a lot more. Anyway, I basically don't want Sellsword to run too far ahead, so updates will be slower for this than Ellipsis.

In other news... moral support, please. I'm about to do something that could lose me all my dignity. But I'm being bribed, so it's probably worth it. Probably.

And now, to the chapter! Sorry for the drabbliness of it. Please review!

* * *

The castle is quiet for the next few days. For the most part, you remain alone in your room, poring through books that you are unaware of ever reading. You consume them for the sake of knowledge and for the distraction, though you derive no pleasure from the task. The days pass longer now, more steadily, and you find them all the more draining for this. Summer is dying in Daein, and while you are thankful for the relief of the heat, you know that the winter weather could prove lethal. You disregard the thought. There is time enough to dwell on such things later. You find it all together strange how difficult it is for you to adjust back to your old life. Your head is always concerned with supplies and morale these days, and you are running painfully low on the latter.

The door opening disturbs you from your reverie. Even without turning, you know it to be Ena. Nobody else in the castle would risk entering unannounced, least of all without you hearing them approach. Thinking about it, you doubt that anyone else would want to or need to. By and large, the guards here are terrified of you. You turn to find her stood silently in the doorway. You look at her questioningly, but receive no response.

You remove yourself from your position on the floor and stand beside her. "Ena, what's bothering you?" Her expression is concerning, and your immediate fear is that something has happened to Rajaion.

"We just received news from the capital," she tells you. They are all the words you need to know before the truth hits you like a stab to the chest. Yet still, Ena continues, each word further compounding your painful realisation. "The Crimean Army is marching towards Nevassa at an alarming rate."

"No..." You clench your fists. This cannot be happening...not so soon...

Ena forces your gaze towards her. "Soren. General Petrine has been relieved of her duty here and sent to Melior with reinforcements. It seems that Ashnard has not been present in Daein for some time now."

You swallow. That makes sense. So they were merely using his absence as an excuse to relocate to the Crimean capital without Ena's knowledge. "Then who is to take command of Nevassa?" She avoids your eye. "Ena?"

She clasps her hands together before meeting your gaze once more. "I will be fine, Soren. Please, do not worry. I have...said before that I am willing to die for him."

"It won't be dying for him! It'd be dying for Ashnard. I'm not willing to let you do that." Your face is set in determination. "Let me fight with you."

"S-Soren?"

"I am willing to fight. My skill with tomes has increased greatly. I can take care of myself on the battlefield." You notice her expression give way slightly. "Please. If we fight together, we can defeat them. For the sake of politics _and_ family. Ena..." You step closer towards her. "Let me fight, and I promise you will survive to see Raj again."

In that instant, she gives way, as you knew she would. "...Very well. But please, Soren, take care. Do not sacrifice yourself for my sake."

You cannot help but smile grimly despite the circumstances. "Of course. How would you explain it to him?"

She smiles in return and quietly exits the room, leaving you alone with your thoughts once more. Until recently, you had never expected to care for more than one person. Yet now that you owe your life twice over, it is necessary to take someone else's. Fate truly is cruel.


	10. Chapter 10

This is chapter 10, and I've decided this warrants some sort of celebration. Thus, you're getting an update before Ellipsis is, and it's twice the usual length. I hope you like it, and I'm sorry if anybody goes OOC - please let me know so I can fix it!

For those of you who remember me saying I was about to lose my dignity by writing something... I still haven't. I'm such a coward. xD

For those of you so inclined, check the recent entries on the FE kink meme and see if you can guess what I'm on about.

For those of you who aren't...REVIEW, DANGIT!

* * *

It is too quiet, and your head is too loud. A hundred voices that you didn't know you had are all whispering, muttering to the point where you think you might just go insane. This thought is entirely illogical, you realise, as the fact that you can even hear such voices inside your head would seem to point that you have already _gone_ insane. You don't entirely refute this conclusion. What disturbs you more is that, filtering through the haze of your mind, you realise that all the voices are whispering much the same thing. _You don't want to do this. _And you know this. You have known this for some time, in fact. Yet this changes nothing. It has never been about what you want to do, but rather what you need to do. What you _must_ do.

The guard's relayed message comes as a shock nonetheless. You didn't think that the Crimean army would breach the outer defences quite so easily. You underestimated them, much like they underestimated you before. Perhaps you are even now, then. The sound of weaponry clanging just outside startles you. Already, they are so close to the throne room. There is little doubt that they still expect to find the king here. That is all that you were ever good for - as a diversionary tactic. Your death itself is a gambit. It is all just a ruse to distract the enemy for just a tiny bit longer. With every moment that passes, another pawn is sacrificed. The door to the throne room booms as it crashes to the ground, dislocated with the force of a heavy axe. It would seem as though your moment is up.

The first one to enter the room is clad in white armour that you recognise all too easily. It would appear that General Tauroneo himself has betrayed Daein now. You cannot say that you truthfully blame him. None of the soldiers here today will be dying for their country. Some will prove themselves to be traitors to the crown, like Tauroneo. The others will die, not for their country, but for the twisted schemes of their king. From what you recall, Tauroneo is a good man. You are glad that he will not be dying in the service of a wretch like Ashnard. You wish the same could be said of you.

Only seconds later, several other members of the mercenary group burst through the doorway. It would appear that you did not cause as many deaths as you had thought, though whether this is cause for joy or frustration, you do not know. It takes a while for you to register that Ike is among them. You swallow. So this is what it has come to. The others stay back, as though by some unspoken order. The way that their commander advances towards you says things that words cannot. You suspect that even the new recruits in their army - for they have expanded somewhat in number since you left them - have been informed of your betrayal.

Ike stops just short of you, still within attacking distance. Neither of you raise your weapons, though you clutch tightly at the tome hidden beneath your robes. Clearly, he wishes to talk. You consider him all the more a fool for it. You are the enemy. You could have struck him down several times over by now. Yet you haven't. You are struck by the parallels of your first meeting. That was also on the battlefield. You didn't attack him then, either. You wonder just what it is about him that seems to defy all the logic that remains in your world.

"Why?"

This one question throws you off completely. You had expected him to ask where Ashnard was - after all, that was their goal, was it not? You swallow and face him with the little dignity that is still left to you. "Why isn't he here?" you ask coldly. "Your army was not quiet about their exploits. It is not unknown for a man to run from death." This is not the reason, and you think it probable that Ike might even know this. Nevertheless, it is your chosen answer. The truth would only hurt him more.

He merely shakes his head. "I'm not interested in why he isn't here. I want to know why you are."

"Is it not obvious? I'm defending my country, on the orders of my king."

He watches you closely for a moment. "I can't say I believe you."

"Pardon?"

"From personal experience, you're a brilliant tactician. If you really meant to stop us, your defences wouldn't have been quite so weak." His logic surprises you, wrong though you know it to be. Yet you cannot help but begin to question yourself. There is a certain ring of truth in his words. Had you subconsciously _wanted_ them to come this far? No, that would be ridiculous.

"I quite agree." You turn to find Ena stood behind you. "As of this moment, I am declaring you a traitor to the crown, and an enemy of Daein." Her face is calm, almost serene.

Yours is not. "That's preposterous! ...You cannot truly believe such things, Ena. You of all people know that I am willing to lay my life down for Daein."

"I am sorry, Soren." You are sure that you see her smile sadly before returning to neutrality. "I can no longer be held responsible for your actions. Regardless of which side you believe yourself to be on, you are an enemy of Daein, and it is my duty to strike you down where you stand."

"I see." And in that instant, you do. You do not understand why, but you know that for whatever reason, she is telling you to go to their side. Your immediate conclusion is that she now knows that she is to die, and has no wish for you to do the same. Yet how can you betray her again? How can you betray _him_ again?

"Go." She definitely smiles at you this time. "I will grant you a few seconds of mercy."

You nod and turn to Ike. He stops you even as you open your mouth. "I don't want an apology. I trust you. Just guide my sword. That's all I need."

"As touching as this display is, I'm afraid I really must interrupt." You turn to see Nasir stride towards the three of you. "Ena. You know full well that I have overlooked your actions until this point. But I will not stand by and watch you give your life for such an absurd cause."

"Grandfather, I-!"

"Be quiet, Ena. As for you..." He turns to face you as he continues, "Need I mention how concerned your uncle has been for your wellbeing? I made the mistake of informing him that you had joined the Crimean army. He was rather displeased when I was suddenly unable to account for your whereabouts."

You swallow. You hadn't even thought about Kurth. "I didn't realise."

"Evidently not." He turns to face Ike, who looks more than baffled by the sudden turn of the conversation. "I suggest that the fighting ends here for today. You may wish to inform your men of the two new recruits."

"Two?" Ike frowns. You notice Ena bite her lip. "Oh. Right."


End file.
